Ransom
by liveFREExo15
Summary: A seemingly simple hostage situation involving Olivia quickly spins out of control as her amateur capturers panic and compromise and the stakes keep rising. She's always been there for him, and him for her. But this time they won't be there for each other


**Chapter One**

Olivia's eyes were bloodshot and pooled with tears. Her wrists hurt from straining against the cuffs that linked her around the back of the chair. She knew for sure that she would have large impressions on her chest from where the too-tight rope was wound, binding her and the chair. There were no gaps in her gag for words to escape, no slits in the bandana covering her eyes for light to seep in through to pierce the velvety black that now surrounded her.

There was no knowing how long she had been down there, wherever 'there' was. She doubted it had been long for she wasn't yet hungry or thirsty, although her sense of hearing had already heightened dramatically. She heard the hum of the washing machine whirring around in circles, the rattle of the dryer as it shook back and forth, and the constant drip...drip...drip of the leaky faucet to her right. From the clicking footsteps directly above her, Olivia concluded her captivators were amateurs, nervously pacing about.

She probably should have been freaking out just about now, panicking about dying and such. Any normal civilian would have been. But she wasn't just any civilian, was she. She wondered if her attackers knew this, if she was being targeted. Well she wasn't at all scared about dying. From years on the force, she knew no one kept someone alive this long without needing something, usually money. And they definitely wouldn't kill her until they got their money. Maybe.

Elliot didn't rise until almost 6:30 that morning, which was extremely late for him, especially on a workday. He peered over at his wife. She was still sleeping. He could barely hear her soft little snores. Smiling, he gently lifted himself off of the bed. The floor creaked gently as he walked on it, but Kathy was a sound sleeper. She wouldn't notice.

After the usual routine of brushing, grooming, eating and caffeinating, Elliot was ready to battle another day head on. He slipped on the stairs on his way out the door. This would have been normal during the winter. Black ice seemed to love the Stabler family. But it wasn't winter; it was an unusually dry spring. Pissed, he looked down to see a single white envelope decorated with his name on the front. He opened and read it, slowly making his way to the car.

He dropped the paper and looked at his wristwatch. It read 6:54. Six minutes until 7. Six minutes to get to the un-addressed parking lot where he would "find something of life-or-death importance". Whatever the hell that meant.

The abandoned lot was pitch black when Elliot got there. As soon as he swung the gate open, a set of painfully bright headlights gleamed ahead. Squinting, Elliot kept his eyes trained on the bright lights. A man in black with ski mask stepped out of the car. God, this was really reminding him of one of those cheesy hostage movies that kept coming out on TV.

The masked man stepped forward, holding what looked to be a whiteboard and a flashlight in his gloved hands. First he held up the whiteboard that read in very messy handwriting: $500,00. Here, 24 hours. No cops. Or else...

The man wiped the board clean and dropped it on the ground. He flipped the flashlight on and pointed it into the car. Aside from the harsh glare, Elliot could make out a face through the windshield. Short, mouse-brown hair. Warm, hazel eyes filled with ferocious bravery. She shook her head as if to say, no, don't do it. But of course Elliot would do it. Anything for her.

The man flipped the flashlight off and dropped it. There was a clank as it collided with the whiteboard. He climbed into the car and suddenly the parking lot went black again. Elliot heard the engine rev and speed away into the darkness. He knew there was no way he could trail it in this darkness. Dejected, he turned and walked alone back to his car.

Five hundred thousand dollars wasn't really that much compared to what he could have asked for, Elliot mused to himself. And even if he had asked for two million dollars he would have scraped it together eventually to save Olivia.


End file.
